Cristina's Last Night in Seattle
by geminian99
Summary: She has chosen to leave and he knows he can't stop her. But they have tonight. Oneshot.


I was going to leave tomorrow. I had decided it was something I needed to do. I wish I could say it was for both of us but really, it was entirely my decision. And mostly for me. But it still felt like I was physically breaking. Even breathing hurt, I couldn't think straight. I'd said I'd meet him after my shift ended. We were both being careful to act as though it was just another day. But the way he held my hand in the lift made it clear that it wasn't just any other day. He knew, as did I. I almost wished he'd be mad at me. Yell at me, be an ass about it. But he was determined to be a perfect gentleman. With a dignity and a grace that I could never have mustered, he smiled sadly at me with a look that said that he understood and loved me anyway. I would have been resentful; he was merely sad and resigned. We walked to my car in silence and I resolutely avoided his gaze as I slid into the drivers' seat. He seemed almost amused as I fumbled to get the key in the ignition, placing his hand gently on shoulder as he noticed my frustration. His thumb rubbed small circles on my sleeve and it was all I could do not to start crying then and there. I knew that my only hope of making it home was to avoid catching his eye. Once I'd managed to start the car I pulled out of the parking lot a little recklessly, a small sigh near me told me he understood exactly what I was going to but was going to be gentle and supportive even though I knew he was hurting as much as I was.  
By the time I reached home, it was raining. Standing in the elevator with him I made a big show of hunting for my keys in my bag but he was a little bit tired of my supremely ineffective attempts at appearing unconcerned. Stepping forward until I could feel his breathing on my face, he reached out and gripped my wrists gently but firmly. I stared into my bag helplessly, entirely at a loss for words.

I wanted to apologise but knew there was nothing I could say that he didn't already know. That I was sorry, he knew. That I didn't feel like I had a choice, he knew. That I was miserable, he knew.

Trembling slightly I rested my head on his chest, a small tear slipped out. As his arms slid around me, I could feel him trembling as he croaked my name hoarsely.

If anything, he sounded sexier than I'd ever realised he was.

As we reached my apartment, he didn't let go. We walked into my apartment with him holding me like he knew I'd disintegrate if he let go.

Once inside, he let go of me. With a quick kiss to my forehead, he slipped past me to get himself and me a glass of water.

As we drank it in silence, I contemplated trying to form a coherent sentence.

We stood across the counter and looked at each other, somehow I had managed to hold my tears at bay.

That's when I gave in.

Bending my head I let them fall. Fast and hot they fell onto the counter and into my water glass.

He stood and watched me, with a pained look on his face.

I mustered the courage to offer him a weak smile and that was his undoing as well. He strode over and pulled me almost forcefully into his arms. He hugged me tighter than he ever had before, murmuring my name into my hair.

We stood there for a while, me breathing into his chest as he dropped little kisses onto the top of my head.

As I pulled away I looked up and mouthed the word sorry. He smiled sadly. He knew and he'd forgiven me already.

I love you, he murmured.

I blinked at him, still at a loss.

He smiled at me. A smile that was impossibly wide until I couldn't help but join him. Irrespective of the fact that I was leaving tomorrow, I was here now. And he wouldn't let me forget that, hard as I may try.

I felt empty knowing that I was leaving him, but him standing there made me feel whole at the same time.

I'd never felt so many emotions at once.

A warmth was spreading through me, a new hard look passed between us.

I might not be there tomorrow, I might regret this tomorrow. But for now, I was here.

I reached out for his hand and kissed it, my eyes never leaving his.

As I brought the other hand up to my lips as well, he stepped closer.

His voice was hoarser, now.

Placing a hand on my back and one on my face, he pulled me up for a soft kiss. Holding his lips inches from mine he looked at me until my knees were weak and he was supporting me with the hand on my back.

Taking his time, he brushed his lips against mine. So gently that it felt almost like a dream. His eyes were shut now, he was breathing hard.

My hands were spread against his chest, and I stroked him slowly.

There should have been an urgency, a desperation.

But all there was was us.

We continued kissing softly, occasionally kissing across each others faces and necks, until I began to walk him backwards into my bedroom.

Unexpectedly, he swung me into a tight embrace as he picked me up and deposited me gently on my bed.

Kneeling on the bed, he slipped off my flats, pausing briefly to unlace his trainers.

As I lay there and watched him in silence, he sat on the bed and held my hand.

He just sat there for a long moment, holding my hand.

The silence was deafening.

Finally, he moved closer, never letting go of my hand.

Sitting near me, he leant over my face and brushed stray hair out of my eyes.

Your eyes will kill me someday, he breathed softly.

Laying soft kisses down my forehead, cheeks and neck, began to run a hand gently up my thigh.

As I reached up to entangle my hands in his hair, his right hand began to undo the buttons on my shirt. His left hand cupping my face, his elbow supporting his weight.

As my shirt fell open, his hand began toying with the button on my jeans.

Flicking it open with practiced ease, he slipped a finger inside the waistband of my panties.

Running it back and forth, he began to kiss up my stomach and towards my bra.

Finally, as I swore softly into his hair, he looked up at me and asked me how I felt.

I'm sorry, I repeated like an idiot. I know, he said. It's okay, he added after a moment, I understand.

As he slipped another finger into my waistband and used it to slowly draw my jeans down as well as my underwear. By this point, I needed him.

Sitting up I shrugged off my shirt and pulled his tshirt over his head.

As we both sat back breathing hard, I slowly unclasped my bra and let it fall into my lap.

His eyes never leaving mine, he got up to step out of his jeans, and sat down near me. Holding me possessively by the waist, he leaned me backwards until I was lying on my back and he was lying over me.

I had a brief flashback of the early days of our relationship when he was still hesitant about resting all of his weight on me, afraid that he'd crush me. That phase had long since passed.

I could feel just how hard he was, as his kisses began to grow harder and more demanding.

I wrapped my thighs around him tightly, needing him to know that I needed him as much and that I felt the same.

He groaned at this, one hand curling in my hair and the other gripping my waist tightly. Kissing and sucking at my breasts as I began to moan his name softly, the hand in my hair moved down to cradle my backside.

You're so soft, he grunted, moving his head down to place kisses everywhere and anywhere.

By now I needed him so much it hurt. A single please dropped from my lips; he understood immediately.

Stretching to retrieve and roll on a condom, he positioned himself over me. One hand under my head and one supporting his torso, he slowly began to lower himself into me.

As I bit my lip to keep from screaming, I watched his face contort with the effort of going so slowly.

As he entered me fully, his hand massaging my breast, I let out a loud moan. Stopping for a moment to give me time to adjust, he began sliding in and out of me almost angrily. Letting me know that he too was human, that he needed me, that I was hurting us.

He was being less gentle than normal, but that was what we both needed.

And he couldn't have hurt me even if he'd tried.

Burying his head in my shoulder as his thrusts grew harder, he let loose with an almighty sigh. Seconds later as he began to collapse on me, I came as well, in a toe-curling, mind-numbing orgasm that felt so good it hurt.

As he lay spent above me, a hand began to lazily stroke my hair as I ran a hand up and down his back. My thighs stretched to intertwine with his, my other hand holding him even more tightly against me.

I'm not sure when we went to sleep but I remember thinking that whatever else happened, I'd have at least this memory to hold on to.


End file.
